


The Wounds of Our Past

by Walking_in_Wonderland



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Carmilla (Web Series), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, BAMF Peggy Carter, Blood, Broody Carmilla, Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Lesbian Vampires, Protective Peggy Carter, Vampire Carmilla, actress Angie Martinelli, past trauma, post Agent Carter, pre-Carmilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 15:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12484632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walking_in_Wonderland/pseuds/Walking_in_Wonderland
Summary: The war is over. Peggy and Angie have settled in to a happy life in the house they borrow from Howard. Life goes on in a comfortable routine of bliss until one night Angie is late getting home.The sounds of screaming outside send Peggy reeling out of the house to find Angie in the clutches of a monster.A monster who had been locked away in a coffin of blood for centuries. A monster named Mircalla.





	The Wounds of Our Past

The fire burned low in the grate from neglect, hiccuping sparks every few minutes. Peggy sat with her works splayed across the table in front of her, paying no attention to the dying fire. Her brow scrunched in frustration as she squinted down at the crime scene photos she’d been looking at on and off for the past three hours trying to pick out any details that might give her a clue about what happened.

The old grandfather clock in the corner bellowed out the twelve chimes that signaled midnight. Peggy looked up with a start. The room had gotten much darker since the last time she had looked up and long shadows crept across the floor from the dim light the lamp on her desk cast around her. She stared at the clock as if she didn’t quite believe it was midnight already.

“Angie, darling, are you home?” Peggy called as she stood and stretched. Rehearsal should have ended half an hour ago which meant Angie should be home by now, but Peggy hadn’t heard her come in.

“Angie?” she called again. Her stockinged feet were silent on the thick rug as she plodded out into the hall, flipping on lights as she went. A glance at the coat rack next to the front door told Peggy that Angie wasn’t home yet. Rehearsal must have run late. Though, it was unusual for Angie to stay late without calling to let Peggy know.

Pushing aside her concern, Peggy continued on to the kitchen to get a pot of tea ready for when Angie did finally get home. She hummed a soft tune to herself as she filled the kettle and set it on the burner. As it heated up she stretched and twisted, listening to the popping of her joints with satisfaction.The kettle whistled merrily, and still Angie wasn’t home.

Peggy shoved aside her worry as she readied two cups of tea and carried them off to the parlor where she rekindled the fire and tidied her desk. The clock ticked, and Peggy started to pace. Her eyes flitted to the clock every time she passed her desk. Her fingers brushed against the drawer where her gun was tucked away. It had been almost an hour, and still no trace of Angie. Unable to put aside her mounting worry, Peggy sat back down at her desk and dug through her drawers in search of the number for the theatre.

A scream from outside shattered the silence that had persisted for the past several hours. Peggy dropped the phone receiver and raced out into the hall, her gun in her hand. She didn’t bother with a coat or shoes as she burst out the door and ran down the walk toward the street. She knew that scream from many late nights running lines.

“Angie!” she shouted as the cold pavement stung her feet and loose pebbles ripped at the soles of her stockings.

From behind a bush she heard whimpers and a strange gurgling sound. Careful not to make any noise, she tiptoed around the bushes and trained her gun on the shadowy figure hunched on the other side. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the street, and the shadowy shape solidified. Horror made her stomach lurch, and she had to clench her teeth from being ill right there in the middle of the sidewalk.

A creature with pallid skin and sunken eyes hunched over Angie’s frozen frame. Her teeth were buried deep in the tender flesh of Angie’s neck as she made strange slurping noises that sent a shiver up Peggy’s spine. Tendrils of crimson blood stained her cheeks and chin and soaked into the collar of Angie’s dress. The scene was like a nightmare - worse than a nightmare.

“You get away from her,” Peggy demanded as she stepped forward, gun raised and eyes full of angry fire.

The creature - no, the girl, it was a girl - glanced up and stared at Peggy with a lifeless gaze that made the hair on the back of Peggy’s neck stand on end. At the sight of the gun her eyes widened, and she pulled her teeth from Angie’s neck. Angie whimpered and turned a desperate gaze on Peggy.

“It’s alright, darling, I’m here,” Peggy called out in the calmest voice she could manage.

“I said, let her go, or I’ll bury a bullet in your brain,” Peggy said, looking back at the girl, the anger seeping back into her voice.

“Can’t kill.” The girl rasped out, her voice as dry as the yellowed pages of books untouched for centuries.

“You clearly don’t know me,” Peggy spat back.

They stared at each other. Lifeless, empty eyes watched Peggy as though wondering if she really would pull the trigger. Her grip loosened, and Angie fell to the ground with a hard thump that elicited another whimper. As soon as she was free, Angie dragged herself toward Peggy, too panicked to try to stand.

Gun still trained on the blood stained girl, Peggy stooped and pulled a terrified Angie to her feet. With Angie tucked close to her side Peggy felt the tightness in her chest dissipate just a little, but not enough. Angie clung to her side, shaking and gasping as blood still oozed out of the deep wound in her neck. She needed medical attention immediately, but Peggy couldn’t just let the girl get away.

“Who are you? What are you?”

Agony flashed across the girl’s face, and she clutched her stomach. “Hungry. So hungry.”

Peggy raised her voice, her face hardening. “What is your name?”

The girl reached for them. Peggy took a step back, yanking Angie with her.

“Please,” the girl breathed her voice as hollow as her eyes. A string of gibberish fell from her lips, and Peggy realized the girl was speaking another language. She recognized it from her years in the war - German.

Peggy tried again, this time in the broken German she had picked up over the years. “Who are you? What are you?”

The girl’s eyes sparked to life at the familiar language, but darkened as she shook her head. “Just shoot me. It will be better.”

The despair in the girl’s eyes as she looked away, down at her blood soaked hands left an ache in Peggy’s chest that made Peggy want to squirm with discomfort. “Not until you tell me who you are, and why you are here. Who sent you?”

“No one.”

A cold breeze kicked up around them and sent a shower of dead leaves fluttering to the ground. The brisk wind seemed to pull Peggy out of the strange trance that had fallen over the three of them. She glanced up and down the empty street and felt the urgent need to get out of sight. She was sure at least one person had likely heard Angie scream, and Peggy didn’t really want to explain the current scene to the neighbors.

“You’re coming with me. Go, into that house.” She brandished her gun toward the house she and Angie still borrowed from Howard, it’s door left hanging open in Peggy’s haste to get to Angie.

The girl raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Go. Unless you want the neighbors to find us out here like this.”

Fear flashed in the girl’s eyes. Her hands opened and closed several times before she turned and skittered toward the house, her eyes never leaving Peggy’s gun. Peggy gathered Angie to her side, tightened her grip on her gun, and followed. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she followed the girl, or creature, or whatever she was up to the house and wondered what horror she was bringing into her and Angie’s life.

Once inside Peggy instructed the still shaking Angie to bolt the door as she marched the girl through to the kitchen where Peggy knew she had a sturdy length of rope tucked away in one of the drawers. The girl didn’t even protest as Peggy ordered her into a chair and proceeded to tie her to it.

“If you even think about trying to escape while I’m gone, know that you won’t get very far,” Peggy warned her before all but turning and running from the kitchen. She found Angie slumped against the wall in the hallway, eyes closed and breathing fast and shallow.

“Come on, love. You’re alright,” Peggy murmured as she hoisted Angie back to her feet and hurried her upstairs where she could better assess her injury. Peggy hoped it wasn’t too severe, she didn’t know how she would explain the strange bite marks to the doctors at the hospital. They looked like something out of a horror movie, and the monsters out of horror movies didn’t exist.

Or did they?

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been able to get over the fact that Carmilla escaped her blood prison during the same time that Peggy and Angie are living their lives as a happily domestic couple (because Peggy does not marry a man, she marries a woman. Fight me.) So I decided to write a fic about it.
> 
> If you want to see more lovely lady gays like this follow me on tumblr: alifeoflesbionage


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